I Am Cancer
by My Vantilene
Summary: It's true. He's the cancer. It's him.
1. Chapter 1

_This is like a Karkat version of the fic Obscura by ThinkingCAPSLOCK. So the layout is similiar, as is the universe. _

**Three Sweeps**

The night is oddly faded, like his surroundings are an old, wine-stained photograph, worn out from years of being a prized memento. The bulbs that hang off the top of rusted poles bathe the quasi-visible streets in sherry light, and everything's as if his eyes have been switched to sepia. As he walks, he takes note of the rustblood pavilion's shabby conditions, but quickly dismisses the colorful insult to describe its sheer parsimony, figuring it's probably a lot better than he deserves. There are practically sights of trolls mugging wrigglers on every block. Gunshots are just background music here. But, hey. If mutantbloods had their own pavilion, it would find its own way to be ten times worse, though, looking around, he's scared to imagine what that might entail. He's grateful for this pavilion, really. He had to walk a couple miles out of his way, and was none too happy about it, but in the greenblood pavilion near his hive, they check meticulously for blood. So rustblood pavilion it was.

When he finally gets to the movie theater, a burst of renewed hope surges through his chest, and he can't help but feel a bit giddy. Ever since he was old enough to understand the difference between cheesy and filthy cinema, he had always watched the old romcoms as if the secrets of the universe were hidden in the subtext. Or maybe the secrets of the dating universe. He internally slaps himself for that last thought. Even though they are crappy secrets, they're secrets nonetheless. Ever since his first Troll Sandler flick, he had sent his lusus out to buy copies of every romcoms in existence. Literally. Every. Single. One.

But that was sweeps ago, and his supply has long since dwindled. He's been watching ones he's already seen for the last couple perigees, and it makes him feel greasy and lonely. But the newest Troll Sandler flick is coming out tonight, and he won't dare miss it. He's just got to slip past the trolls who guard the gate in. Really, they're employed to check blood as meticulously as everywhere else, but the lower you go on the hemospectrum, the less they care. Hopefully, he'll get lucky.

As he nears the entrance, he can see the initials of the title in lights that stretch around the building, albeit, there are a couple lights broken. Still better than nothing, he reminds himself. He's rounding the corner, listening to the jingle of change in his pocket. Another good thing about rustblood pavilions is that the movies are notorious for being dirt-che—

"Hold on, Son, not so fast."

One hand is reaching ambitiously for the entrance, but his elbow is gripped harshly and he's yanked back. The lower you go on the hemospectrum, the less they care about being polite, too.

"You're new around these parts, right? We're going to need a blood sample."

The jingle of change is barely audible now over the sound of his own bloodpusher.

"Wait…" he looks back at the shortened title, "That's the stupid movie with Troll Sandler? I thought it was the new one with actual cannibal Troll Shia Labeouf. I don't want to see a movie for girls. Uh, I'll just be on my way now…" He jerks his thumb away from the movie theater, but the troll clearly has no intention of letting him go so easily.

"Doesn't matter what you're seeing, you're new and we need a tab on you."

"No."

"Excuse me." The guard slams him against the wall, hard enough to draw a little blood. He brandishes a syringe and comes straight at Karkat, but he's much too fast for him and dodges in time. This just gets the guard even angrier. He stabs the syringe right into Karkat's arm, but they've moved too far into the shadows for him to tell it's not maroon. There's a bit of blood still lingering on the syringe, he notes, and that just won't do. The guard's walking back into the light to get a better look.

He gives the troll a swift kick to the side, and the incriminating evidence falls back to Karkat. He picks it up, and runs off into the night. The guard doesn't run after him.

* * *

When he gets home, he slams the door to his hive and makes a nosedive for the couch. That was the first time he's been out since…since prevailing the trials in the caverns. He was debating going for perigees, thinking of the rejection from even the lowest of castes brought an ache to his chest. He went out with hope, but inside he knew they'd be dashed. And going outside for the first time since his wriggling day, while others had been out plenty of times, just resonated his loneliness. If only there was a way he could talk to another troll being without actually leaving his hive. No, wait, that sounded completely dumb.

Dumb enough to work.

At first he hesitated, taken aback by his own stupidity. Was he really going to download Trollian? He had heard a couple trolls in his neighborhood chatting it up, and even through verbal publicity alone, it sounded like the dumbest idea he had ever heard. Who would want to talk to random strangers?

When the only thing to do is strife with Crabdad and watch old romcoms alone in a dark room, it's hard not to get bored or lonely. Maybe talking to random strangers would be a better experience.

The crab-top ripely chirped, signifying the program was done making a pig sty of his computer. He clicked on the "Next" button, which took him to another screen.

He almost threw the computer out the window.

Oh, no.

Oh, _hell no_.

The brain-dead program was asking for his blood color.

Why? Why would it need to know something that stupid?

Karkat should've known it would, though. But he's too smart to let some little Alternian laws get him down.

He entered "Gray" into the text box, hoping against hope that whoever created this program was a gullible idiot.

Miraculously, it worked.

The next step was easy, just a two-worded username. Might as well make a big showy pun out of it.

He scrolled over to another enter button, and soon enough he was talking to a random stranger.

TC: SuP mY mAgNiFiCiEnT bRo

He absconded the heck out of that conversation.

This was stupid. Talking to random strangers is the most awkward thing. Even worse than that one movie with Troll Angelina Jolie, and that was a bloody train-wreck. How was he supposed to start a conversation with someone he didn't know anything about? This was extremely idiotic. But, what the heck? They're strangers, if he embarrassed himself, who's going to know?

AA: hell0

What was up with that 0? Was she trying to be clever? Now that he thought about it, the indigoblood that tried to talk to him had a quirk of his own, too. Maybe that was how everyone remembered everyone on here. His finger tapped the caps lock button.

CG: HEY.

Better to come across as an arrogant douche than risk being forgotten.

AA: wait

AA: why are y0u talking in gray

CG: BECAUSE IT ADDS TO THE MYSTERY OF TALKING TO A STRANGER. YOU'RE WELCOME.

CG: I'M KARKAT, BY THE WAY.

AA: aradia


	2. Chapter 2

**Six Sweeps**

It's surreal, seeing Kankri's mouth move and your voice come out, but with all the wrong words. You feel a mix between flabbergast and momentary, unbridled weakness as he plows on, either completely ignorant to your palpable distress, or completely apathetic, despite his insistence that he could stop at any moment if you feel the least bit uncomfortable. You're not quite sure, however, if you truly want him to stop. You're stuck listening to him, mesmerized with sick fascination and appalling shock. He's you, and you've hated every version of yourself ever since you first established a sense of self, and discovered the many, many things there were to hate. But his eyes are blank and white, and they're not _yours_ they're _his_, and he's the you that's from an Alternian paradise, where the worst that can really become of you is a life full of coddling or a life with others flaunting their superiority. That is so much better than being burned at the stake, or shot with arrows, or stoned, or fed to a lusus, or even slavery. This version of you has probably never cursed the filthy sludge running through his veins, or stayed awake at night wondering why he was the way he was, and what made him different, and what would his friends think if they knew, he was pathetic and his greatest fear was everyone figuring it out.

But that is not you, _Kankri_ seems fully intent on letting everyone know just how pathetic he is, and he doesn't even need that ugly red sweater or his ugly red blood to do it, all he has to do is talk. And, man, does he talk, and man, is it surreal to watch him.

Surrealism turns to fear once the both of you spot Porrim. When you see her stride up next to him, you want to run, and run quickly. She absolutely terrifies you. Talking to an almost complete opposite of you was a bit of an odd experience, a learning experience as well since he has this disillusion that you're his apprentice, but an opposite Kanaya is picturesque insanity. The last thing you need is a crazy incarnation of your dear friend asking where she can find more booze through a greasily flirtatious voice.

Of course, you really shouldn't have the right to judge, and to judge so off base, too. From the moment she starts to talk, you realize her voice still carries the same warmth as Kanaya's and that there is clearly nothing in her system because her eyes are bright white and she is evidently dead. It is impossible for the deceased to become intoxicated, trust you, if you had a boondollar for every time Eridan has tried, you'd probably be able to offer up a wager not even Lord English could refuse. Maybe if you had that money to offer him, you could convince him to leave you and the rest of your friends alone.

As Porrim goes on talking to Kankri, you almost want to say something to her. She's like Kanaya, but without the formal guard. Don't get you wrong, Kanaya's one of the easiest people to talk to… when you're alone. And there are even some instances where even her extreme patience runs out. Namely, a few human months ago. She doesn't want to hear it anymore, not when she can talk to Rose all day instead of listening to whatever garbage your think-pan decides to spew.

Is it wrong to say you miss her when she's so close?

And what is this other you's problem? Why is he so indignant about pet names of all things?

Oh, yeah. You kind of figure it out when they both sneak a side-glance in your direction.

As obnoxious and ungrateful as he is, he's still your ancestor, what you're positive Dave called a human older brother. You suppose that gives him some authority over you, which may or may not be going to his head, and that may or may not be the reason you haven't snuck out of his lecture just yet.

So Kankri is indignant about pet names on your behalf.

This is somehow unsurprising.

Porrim's voice is really soothing.

Well, yeah, it's basically Kanaya's voice, but you haven't heard her this calm since before the game. You resist the urge to envelope her in a hug. You realize that would be pretty inappropriate, considering the circumstances. Maybe you'll be able to get one from your Kanaya if her mood ever improves.

Porrim leaves in a huff, obviously offended by another of Kankri's "circumspections." You're kind of disappointed you weren't able to say anything to her before she left, but then Kankri picks up where he left off and all you can hear is white, hot noise. Man, do you hate him and his ignorant words.

After a while, Latula shows up.

You're kind of absolutely taken at the sight of her.

So this is Terezi's ancestor, the one you've heard so much about. You think she's alright, better than average look-wise, you'd say.

But then she opens her mouth.

Terezi doesn't have a very soothing voice like Kanaya's to begin with, but at least she doesn't try to be insufferably high-pitched like Latula. And then you throw in Z's at the end of words they don't belong to, and restatements of being a gamer girl in almost every sentence… it just drives you up the belfry.

But then you stop listening to Latula, and start listening to Kankri just for the sake of not listening to Latula, and you realize something.

The way he talks about you and Terezi's relationship is dripping with wistful emotions his tone cannot subjugate.

It gives you a bit of a shock, though it really shouldn't, and you can see how an obnoxious, pathetic, alternate version of you would be attracted to an annoying, crazed, alternate version of her. Not that you aren't pathetic, and she isn't crazed, it's just in an alternate universe, it seems much more horrifying. Their grub would be the most insufferable abomination to ever walk the dreambubbles.

Since they've had an eternity together, they're understandably farther along in their relationship than you and Terezi —

"She and Karkat have a different relationship from the one we have. Theirs is much more turbulent, which is fueled presumably by romantic tension. I'm picking up on some major vascillation vibes from their situation. It's kind of unfortunate, but it makes me grateful that we never got to that point."

Your world absolutely breaks.

Yes, you understand that Kankri is not you and Latula is in no way Terezi, but the prospect of it being true on a different plane of existence is still as grotesque to you as an appendage bent the wrong way.

And Kankri is still talking, still going on about how glad he is that they never went that way with their relationship, still lying through his teeth, and oh no. He's moved on and now he's going on and on about things he's noticed about her that no one else has. Could he be any more obvious?

Things are deafeningly quiet on Latula's end.

You want to throw up this is making you so sick. Sometimes you feel this way when Terezi talks to Dave, but it's never been this bad for you. You're knees are getting weak just as this is getting painful to watch.

It's now that you realize Beforus wasn't exactly the paradise you previously thought. No wonder he's so messed up, he's you without a Terezi.

The thought makes you just want to curl up and die.

Latula leaves, thankfully, and Kankri goes back to talking, unfortunately. He's saying words, but you really can't comprehend them anymore. You're overcome with sudden blood lust. It would be nice just to be able to sink your fist into his jaw.

Meenah, Feferi's ancestor who actually likes you for some untraceable reason, comes back and lures Kankri away from you. You're grateful and ungrateful all at the same time. You wanted him to shut up, but now you're left alone with your thoughts, and that's a bit worse than some dry lecture, in your opinion. You would run and find Terezi for some reassurance if your ancestor didn't have this annoying authority over you.

Meenah shows up a bit later without Kankri, and insists that you come with her. You refuse at first, but eventually go along with her. After all, she could lead you to Terezi.

However, it becomes clear pretty quickly that she borrowed you just so you could open a door to one of your memories. You really don't want to, but this Feferi is hard to say no to. Not because you find her scary and intimidating, which, in all honesty, you don't, but because you somehow…value her opinion of you…?

You said you didn't want to make friends, and this is exactly the reason.

Eventually, you confess the password, but she demands it louder.

To keep things short and sweet, you give her what she wants.

Once inside, you run off, knowing which memory this is.

* * *

_AN:_

_I forgot I was doing this series in third person.  
_

_Whoops.  
_

_I was writing this at work with my laptop and I had to set it down so I could let this kid in. He runs over to the sign-in list and while he's signing in he leans over and reads it.  
_

_I nearly scream.  
_


End file.
